Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)
“Can I get you a coffee?” the waitress asks.
“I’ll have a beer. Actually, no, make it a Scotch.” I circle my fingers over my temples. “On the rocks.”
“Jesus Christ,” Masters mutters under his breath. “What now?”
The waitress walks off to the bar, looking a little perplexed.
“Have you even been to bed yet?” Seb frowns.
“Yes, of course,” I bark.
“You know it’s seven in the morning, right?”
“Yes! I know what fucking time it is!” I snap. “I’ve fucked it. I fucked the whole thing.”
“What thing?” Masters frowns.
“Charlotte’s pregnant.”
“What?” they both gasp, widening their eyes.
I drag my hand down my face. “Oh God, she was all sexy and shit, and I didn’t see her last night because of fucking Sheridan. One minute I was saying hello, the next minute I was finger fucking her with her legs over my shoulders, and the minute after that, I’m giving it to her on the kitchen counter. I forgot all about a fucking condom,” I blurt out.
They both stare at me, horrified. “When was this?” Seb asks.
“Twenty minutes ago.” I sigh with a sad shake of my head.
“Oh God, you idiot. So, she’s not really pregnant?” Masters throws his head back and laughs out loud, placing his hand over his heart in relief. “You had me there for a minute.”
“Well, she soon will be. This isn’t fucking funny, Masters, you prick.” I put my head in my hands. “She’s young and never been on the pill before.” I try to think of an analogy. “She’s like a giant, golden uterus, just waiting to be fertilized.”
They chuckle together.
I shake my head in disgust. “Seb, Google what age a woman is most fertile,” I whisper in a panic.
He takes out his phone and consults Dr Google.
The waitress arrives with my drink and hands it over. “Thank you,” I whisper and take it with a shaking hand.
Masters winces as he watches me. “Bring him another, please.”
The waitress frowns and looks between us. “Is everything okay?”
“No!” I splutter. “I’ve fucked it, I fucked the whole thing. And everything was going so great, too.”
She purses her lips, unsure what to say to that.
“Thank you,” Seb says to the waitress, obviously trying to get rid of her.
I drain my glass of scotch while they watch on.
“Why would you have unprotected sex?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. It was so good that I completely forgot I was a mere human with super potent bodily fluids.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Seb mutters in disgust. “I need sex that good. I have fucking repetitive strain in my wrist. I think I’m going to have to start going back to Madison’s.”
“Did Charlotte forget, too?” Masters frowns, ignoring Seb.